


to protect family

by rivkael



Series: the days after [7]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Poisoning, Violence, assassination attempt, nobody dies tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-10-25 14:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20726054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkael/pseuds/rivkael
Summary: Malfurion wakes to something very wrong.Illidan isn't waking up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [APocketSizedAce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/APocketSizedAce/gifts).

It was dawn when Malfurion became aware that something was wrong. Half-asleep, he inhaled an odd scent.

There was a sound - a pained breath - from the other side of the bed, and his eyes flew open in an instant to spot a figure leaning over him. 

He exploded upwards in an instant, the now-clear smell of decay filling the air. Forsaken assassins?

He shifted into a bear, knocking the one that had attacked him to the ground and tore into them, ripping their armour and flesh with ease. They went limp quickly, but the stench was now overpowering him.

He turned.

Peripherally, he had been aware that there was more than one assassin. Consciously, he hadn’t considered what that might mean.

The other assassin had fled via the balcony. Illidan was unmoving, several wounds on his torso oozing fel blood. 

Malfurion shifted back, rushing to kneel beside his brother. He brought some of the blood to his nose to sniff it. The undertones were alarming. “Guards!” He called. “Guards!” Nobody responded, but he didn’t have time right now. This poison, he’d seen it before. It had been designed to kill demons specifically.

And Illidan was altogether far too close to being a demon for comfort.

Malfurion concentrated and began to try to flush the poison out with magic, calling on the energy of Stormwind’s grounds. The wounds themselves weren’t immediately fatal, the poison was. He painstakingly pulled it through Illidan’s veins, back towards the wounds. 

It came out slowly. Trickling from Illidan’s injuries, a nasty grey colour. Malfurion mopped it away using the bedsheets. They were ruined anyway. 

He reached over to press a hand to Illidan’s forehead, then checked his breathing. His brother’s skin was damp, and warm. A fever was rising. Hopefully he would be able to sweat the last of the poison out himself.

Malfurion thanked the gods that Illidan was unconscious for this. The pain from the spell could incapacitate.

Placing a hand upon Illidan’s forehead once more, he murmured a healing spell to begin the closing of the wounds before stepping over to lock the balcony doors. There was no sign of the second forsaken and he knew the responsible thing would be to raise the alarm - what if they went after others? King Anduin was in the castle.

Illidan whimpered, shifting on the bed, and he was beside his brother in an instant, soothing him with hands on his face.

“Guards!” Malfurion called again. 

This time, he heard something. Running feet. Too heavy to be that of the assassin, they clanked as metal on stone did. And he realised that the door was ajar. Touching Illidan’s cheek one last time he rose to open it, meeting the prone body of their guard, and two upright patrollers who were approaching. 

“Lord Stormrage,” the male greeted. “What’s going on?” As he asked, Malfurion bent to check on his guard. She was dead. 

“Forsaken assassins,” He stated. “I have killed one, but the other escaped onto our balcony and down the building. Presumably they are now loose in the city. My brother has been gravely wounded.” His mouth shut with a snap as he looked back at Illidan. “I would like the forsaken corpse removed.”

The pair of guards nodded. The male immediately took up the corpse of his fellow guardswoman and carried her away. With Malfurion’s help, the woman wrapped the forsaken up in a sheet and hoisted it into her arms. 

Malfurion sighed. Suddenly his antlers felt very heavy and his eyes burned. Turning away from the hallway, he sat beside his brother once more. He could have lost Illidan. 

This thought choked him for a moment, and he bowed his head, wiping his eyes. This second chance with Illidan was _ everything _, and he had nearly lost it all to some knives and poison. 

Illidan whimpered again, curling in on himself. His massive wings creaked as he pulled them in and shuddered. He didn’t seem to be conscious, but Malfurion spoke anyway, “Brother. Illidan, I am here. It’s all right, I’m here.”

While speaking, he climbed up to sit by Illidan’s head and began stroking his hair and forehead. Warm with poison-fever and damp with sweat, his brother already seemed ill, and it was no small malady that could fell a demon hunter.

Illidan trembled, and one of his hands reached up weakly, grasping at air until Malfurion clasped it with both of his own. 

“Don’t leave me-...” Illidan’s whisper was low and fast but heard. He gripped his brother’s hand tightly. “It is too dark, I will do anything you ask! Just don’t leave me alone here…”

Malfurion’s heart clenched as he held his brother’s hand close. “I won’t leave you, never again will I leave you,” he promised. _ Elune, _ he was delirious. A slow horror struck Malfurion. “I’m so sorry, brother,” he said in a choked voice. “I’m here.”

In his fevered state, Illidan thought he had been locked up again. 

“I- I won’t ever leave you Illidan,” He reached over to the table at the side of the bed and he collected a towel, wetting it with one hand using the cup of water that always rested there. “Hush, now. I am here.”

He brought the wet towel to mop Illidan’s forehead. The blindfold grew damp, but he knew Illidan would be upset should he remove it. 

Instead he clasped Illidan’s hand with his own and began channeling a powerful healing spell known as Tranquility. Malfurion used the last of his mana to cast a simple rejuvenating spell on himself, knowing that he couldn't do more in his still weakened state. 

All the magic in the world, still none could heal an axe to the back instantly. And he had shapeshifted, which he was not supposed to be doing just yet. 

Settling in beside Illidan, he took up the towel and his brother’s hand and prepared for a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can’t see and it’s too cold and dark-

It was dark and cold and he  _ couldn’t see  _ and he ached, deep in his chest. Malfurion was here somewhere, just out of reach, and he called for him, softly, desperately. He could feel his brother through their bond, the bond they had had forever- but it was muted and he couldn’t reach for Malfurion like he wanted to.

His hand was taken and he knew it was his brother but that didn’t stop his fear. He didn’t  _ understand  _ he couldn’t  _ see _ and he was so scared and cold and he _whimpered_ .

And then he understood and desperately didn’t want to.

“... sorry… here… -idan? ...hear me?” 

He couldn’t stop his sobs. He didn’t know how it had happened, but he was back in his cell and hallucinating his brother.

The hand in his, the voice, all of it; a wraith, a sliver of his fractured mind as Maeiv locked him away for good. Perhaps he’d never even left his cell, the world and everyone moving on without him whilst he was entombed beneath the earth. 

“...illidan…” 

He whimpered, squeezing at the phantom hand as he wept. It felt so  _ real _ . He took the small comfort this hallucination brought, feeling so very small. Like a lonely child, dreaming up someone who cared for him. He so desperately wanted his big brother, but he knew Malfurion did not want him.

He wondered if Malfurion even remembered he  _ had _ a little brother. Did he know what Maiev had done to him? Would he  _ care _ ?

“...idan… right here… please…” was that crying? He didn’t want to hear Malfurion cry. What a cruel trick of his mind to play.

And then he heard the click of boots on stone and froze, hardly daring to breathe. It echoed endlessly, what was  _ happening _ it seemed like she was everywhere, circling him like a predator.

He couldn’t help himself; he started begging. “Please… please, no, please, I’ll be good, I’ll do anything-... please!” Maeiv’s footsteps paused for a moment before echoing around him once more and he covered his ears, curling into a tiny ball, still mumbling endless pleas.

Malfurion’s words continued as well and his hand stayed in Illidan’s even as he tried to block the sounds and he wished his mind would stop because he needed to  _ concentrate  _ on Maeiv, to hear what she said so he could be good, so she wouldn't have to punish him.

“...safe, Illi… swear you’re safe…” he wasn’t safe. He couldn’t be. He was in his cell, safety didn’t  _ exist _ here.

At least not for him.

His chest still ached, which was strange. Wounds didn’t last in the cell. Perhaps he was hallucinating  _ pain _ now as well.

“Goddess, goddess _ goddess _ \- no no- no  _ please _ -!” He felt the phantom of the straps of a mask on his face, a muzzle, something he hadn’t worn in years and his hearing seemed to cut off.

The only thing left was the click-clack of Maeiv’s boots, endlessly pacing, and the quiet pleading of Malfurion, still in his mind, still in his hand. 

He breathed in and out and tried to calm himself down. The muzzle was for when he was loud and annoying Maeiv, so the sooner he calmed down the sooner it would come off. Probably. 

But he couldn’t seem to soothe himself. His heartbeat was racing, his breathing likewise in gasps. He felt as though he was drowning in the hell of his underground prison. Goddess, what if he died down here and nobody ever knew?

“...come on brother, breathe… in, out…” Illidan tried, he did, clinging to the phantom spark of Malfurion in his chest and the hallucination hand desperately. “...that’s it, you can do it…”

Terrifyingly, it seemed to work. His breathing began to slow, his heart stopped feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest, and strangely the footsteps faded to nothing, the feeling of the muzzle following soon after until the only thing he could sense was  _ Malfurion. _

“You’re safe, Illidan, I swear. Nothing can harm you.” He believed him.

He  _ believed him _ .

And suddenly maybe it would be okay. He wasn’t sure exactly  _ where  _ he was or what was happening but Malfurion was here. 

Malfurion was here and he would protect him.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been three days. Illidan had spent them oscillating between panic and unconsciousness, and Malfurion was exhausted, having barely slept. Not his natural state of being in the slightest. 

Curled beside Illidan, drifting in and out of sleep, Malfurion sighed as Illidan began to murmur once more. 

“Mal…?” 

“I’m here…” he reached over to stroke Illidan’s cheek. “I’m here.”

“Hurts, Mal.”

“Yes, I expect it does,” He turned his head to watch his brother properly, even as his eyelids tried to droop closed. “Illidan?”

“Yes, Mal?” Illidan shifted slightly to curl closer to Malfurion’s side, though he could not curl up as small as the druid knew he could, probably because of the injuries that were now well on the way to healed.

“Do you know where you are?”

“M’with you, Mal,” Illidan murmured sleepily, and that was about the shape of it, really. “In- the place with the humans. Storm- Storm-...”

“Stormwind,” Malfurion supplied.

“That, yes.”

The pair lapsed into silence, but Illidan soon broke it once more. “ _ Hurts _ , Mal.”

“What hurts?” Malfurion asked, reaching over to touch at the bandages.

“Not there- my head.” Illidan rubbed at his temple with the palm of one of his hands, tired and face drawn. Now that Malfurion paid attention he could see the little lines of pain on his brother’s face.

He gently pried Illidan’s hand away, touching his brother’s temple with a finger and calming the headache with just a thought. The demon hunter let out a little, happy sound. “You’re dehydrated, Illidan, you should drink something.” He twisted in the bed, and in the second he was not against Illidan, his brother made the most heartbroken whimper and Malfurion could not help but laugh. “So dramatic, brother.”

He brought back the cup of water that had been on the table to the side of the bed. “Can you drink?”

Illidan could, in fact, drink. Helped by Malfurion, he sat more upright and drank the water thirstily. Once it was gone he once more rested his head on Malfurion, horns heavy against the druid’s shoulder. “Tired, Mal.”

“Yes, I am too. Shall we lie back down and sleep?” That sounded mightily tempting. 

“Not- not yet.”

He frowned at his brother. “No?”

“Gotta say things- Mal,” Illidan twisted clumsily to look up at Malfurion. “Nearly- nearly  _ wasn’t _ and you saved me and- thank you.” Was Illidan  _ crying? _

“Shhh, you can tell me once you are rested,” Malfurion soothed, guiding both of them back into a comfortable sleeping position. “It’s alright.”

“Love you, Mal. Lots’n lots.”

“I love you too, Illidan.”

There was a pause. “No you don’t, nobody does…” Illidan muttered in a sad voice.

Malfurion stopped breathing for a moment. “Illidan…” how could Illidan  _ think that _ \- “You have  _ so many people who love you _ … Me, Velen, Belath, the Slayer, Asha, Kayn-...”

Illidan let out a whimper and buried his head in Malfurion’s shoulder. “Don’t-  _ why _ …” he barely breathed it. Malfurion’s heart broke and he clung to Illidan tightly. “ _ Why? _ ” 

“Because you’re Illidan, you’re my brother, you’re their parent, a friend- Illidan you’ve given so much to so many people-...” Malfurion took a deep breath. “You’re not expendable, you’re  _ so loved, _ Illidan.”

Illidan shuddered, like the words physically hurt. Maybe they did. Through their bond, he was so open, so vulnerable. So scared that these were lies.

Malfurion swallowed his guilt and anger at Maeiv, and stroked Illidan’s hair gently. “I love you, I love you, I love you so much,” he repeated, over and over, and Illidan sobbed into his shoulder, emotions a-whirl. 

It felt like a barrier was breaking down. Something emotional, something so  _ good _ that Illidan just needed to let go of his anxieties, to allow himself to be happy, and Malfurion stayed there with him, holding him both physically and through their bond as he struggled to let go. 

And Illidan did. Slowly, painfully, he cried himself out. 

His sobs turned to whimpers, turned to slow and steady breathing as Malfurion continued to reassure him. “I’m here, I love you,” He wouldn't- couldn’t- stop repeating those words until Illidan believed him. He was certain it was only their bond that kept the Illidari from bursting into the room, stopping Illidan from projecting his breakdown to the entire force. He was somewhat glad of this. If nothing else, the past days had proved that this room did  _ not _ fit the entirety of the Illidari, no matter how determined they were.

When Illidan started to calm down, it was very obvious he was exhausted. Malfurion had dealt with an over-tired Illidan many a time in their youth, and was surprised to find that his habits has not changed a bit.

“Love you, Mal,” Illidan tucked himself closer, curling up in a surprisingly small ball.

“Love you too, baby brother,” Malfurion continued combing the knots from Illidan’s hair. His brother was laid out on the bed and he had knelt to one side to better deal with his hair. “You truly are awful at remembering to wash, Illidan.”

Illidan didn’t respond, but Malfurion felt a flash of fear over their bond.”Little brother? Are you alright?” 

Inhaling slowly to calm himself, Illidan curled his hands into the blankets. “I dislike washing,” he said slowly. “One of the things Shadowsong taught me.” His voice was devoid of all emotions. “When she decided I was not clean enough-...” 

Malfurion stopped combing the hair and instead laid a hand on Illidan’s shoulder. 

“I believe it’s called a hose? It was freezing water at high speed and it  _ hurt _ .” Illidan’s voice cracked. 

Malfurion sighed. “The more I hear about how she treated you the more I want to  _ hurt _ her.” 

There was a flash of vindication but then of  _ fear _ . “She’ll hurt you too,” whispered Illidan. “Please… be careful...” 

Malfurion hushed his brother gently. “It’s alright. I’m not planning anything right now.” In the future, though… he could probably bring Tyrande into this. “But she deserves to pay for her abuse of power… her abuse of  _ you _ .” 

The shivers returned, and Malfurion stretched down the bed to tug the blankets over Illidan. “Try not to worry. I won’t do anything without careful planning and definitely never alone. I know how dangerous she is.”

Illidan nodded, relaxing. He tangled his fingers in Malfurion’s beard, tucking himself more comfortably to his brother’s side. “Love you, Mal,” 

“I love you too, Illidan.”

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to apocketsizedace for bugging me on this!!!
> 
> also, this may have two or three chapters, unsure yet!


End file.
